


Play with Me

by orphan_account



Series: Alfar!Sporticus [2]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Based off Fan Art, Cryptid!Sportacus, Gen, Short & Sweet, Sporty is too cute?, help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He felt his skin crawl when he realized the little beasty had meant hungry--as in, chewed and ate half the bars off his containment cell, along with part of the curtain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the art by http://celestialess.tumblr.com/ and original idea by http://dreamflnder.tumblr.com! Their Cryptid!Sporty is just too adorable I can't.

“I am one-hundred percent positive it’s a Sports Elf.” 

 

The voice on the other end of the line barbled at him, chiding and sarcastic. Robbie scowled at the discoloured wall of his office. 

 

“No, it’s not a man in a costume. I feel you like should be taking this more seriously.” Pause. “Yes I  _ know _ Lazytown hasn’t had any incidents--” Pause. “And I  _ know _ we’re well outside the Sport’s Elf usual territory--” Pause. “How am  _ I _ supposed to know how he got here? It’s my job to contain him, not  _ stalk him _ .”

 

“Up,” muttered the creature in question. Robbie glanced back at him.

 

Sportacus, the odd man-elf-thing in the back containment area, was sitting with his back to Robbie and his arms crossed. His ears were down, tail barely flickering. Pouting maybe. Up? What did “up” mean?

 

“Okay, well, wait--you want me to what?” He turned his attention back to the discolored wall. The admin on the other end of the line sighed and repeated themselves; he was to keep the creature contained until further notice. They weren’t sure when they’d get someone out there to solidify the claim of an errant  _ Sports Elf _ in a town full of  _ young couples and their kids _ .

 

“...Right,” Robbie snapped the phone back on its hook. He watched one of Sportacus’ ears twitch briefly, interested, before settling back against his hair. Other than that, the  _ statistically murderous and very dangerous creature _ didn’t do anything. Just...pouted. Spectacularly. Well, at least it wasn’t scrambling to try and eat the bars, or lash out at Robbie if he got anywhere close. That was refreshing, and also allowed Robbie to start on the near-never-ending amount of paperwork documenting an Sports Elf so near a community would be.

 

He kept one eye on the creature, and one eye on the paperwork.

 

\--

 

In the end, Robbie had to hide Sportacus’ containment cell. He dimmed the lights and dropped the black-out curtain over it and if he heard a sad sounding whine, he tried not to let it get to him. The creature was a menace. Not a puppy.

 

Mrs. Sweetling came in with a pet carrier and yet  _ another _ gnome from her garden. She swore up and down that she’d removed those berry bushes they were attracted to, but Robbie didn’t bother believing her. He just took it, documented her statement, and did  _ that _ paperwork too. It took significantly less time--gnomes were just flat-out annoying. And they  _ bit _ .

 

The gnome was tucked in a containment cage in the west cages, the small ones.

 

The kids came by after school, as they usually did. He pretended to suffer through their never ending questions about dragons, drakes (yes, they ARE different Ziggy), and any number of other beasts. The kids ended up exploring the front of the shop, looking through pamphlets on care of magical creatures legalized in the home, asking about this and that.

 

He also ended up helping them with the science homework. 

 

Around five they gave up and headed home, which left Robbie in blissful silence.

 

“Wonderful.” He stood and stretched, back popping. Once his computer was off and he’d grabbed his jacket, he went to lock the front door. His home was on the upper floor of the Paranormal Center’s location--he’d be close in case an emergency happened. 

 

“Time for dinner and--oh, jesus.” When he turned around,  _ there he was _ . The elf. The blue creature was sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting area, facing the window. His nose and hands there smooshed up against the glass, watching the kids.  _ Watching the kids _ . “Uh.”

 

“Kids!” Sportacus pointed before looking over at him. “Kids play?”

 

“...How did you get  _ out _ ?”

 

“Hungry.”

 

“Okay,” Robbie lifted his hands. “Hey, why don’t we go back to your little...compartment.”

 

“But,” Sportacus looked back out the window, then up at Robbie with pleading eyes. “Play?”

 

“No play.”

 

“Play.”

 

“ _ No _ play.” His hand went to his hip again. Sportacus apparently remembered the last time that happened and Robbie again watched the creature go from precious to  _ downright horrifying _ in the blink of an eye. All teeth, bared and white. Wide eyes, and crouching in a position Robbie recognized as a spring position.  _ It wanted to attach. _ “Don’t you do it.”

 

“Play!” Sportacus hissed.

 

“Okay, lets play.” The taser hissed and made connection--with the chair. Sportacus was  _ in the air _ , a solid blur of color. Robbie didn’t even have time to shout. His back made contact with the floor hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs, black dots circling his vision.

 

Sportacus just sat on his chest, criss-cross. He rested those dangerously sharp claws on his knees and bent forward over his knees until he and Robbie were nose-to-nose.

 

This was it. Robbie was going to die.

 

“...Rob-y.” Sportacus blinked, then giggled.  _ He giggled _ , like a child, and reached one of those claws up to tap gently at Robbie’s goggles. “Rob-y play?”

 

“...if I saw no, will you launch yourself at me again at high speed?”

 

Sportacus didn’t understand the question, clearly, and cocked his head to one side. One of his ears perked up, and confusion colored his face. Robbie took a steadying breath. 

 

“Robbie play,” Robbie offered, testing. Both of those ridiculous ears shot up immediately and Sportacus beamed, eyes sparkling.

 

“Rob-y play!” He touched Robbie’s forehead with a finger, very carefully. Like he...like he didn’t want to hurt him. “It!”

 

“What?”

 

Sportacus giggled again, then launched off of Robbie’s chest (ouch) and over the counter. There was the tacka-tacka-tack of claws on linoleum before he got his footing, and then he was off into the recesses of the Paranormal Center. Presumably to hide.

 

Robbie laid on the floor of the foyer for a moment and just took slow breaths.  _ Great _ .

 

Before he began his deadly game of hide-and-seek, he armed himself with a stun gun, and tranq gun, and stopped by the cage to see what  _ exactly _ had happened. He felt his skin crawl when he realized the little beasty had  _ meant _ hungry--as in, chewed and ate half the bars off his containment cell, along with part of the curtain.

 

“Why me,” Robbie whined. He heard more giggling from within the halls of his office and started his search for his nightmare.


End file.
